


Mistakes

by MaraGiggles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraGiggles/pseuds/MaraGiggles
Summary: Requested: “Daddy!Dean. It’s season 10, Dean’s a demon and had broken free in the bunker, and the 14 year old reader takes it upon herself to distract her dad until Cas gets to the bunker.”  NO INCEST.Warnings:  Oh god where do I begin?  Angst for starters, a shit ton of angst.  You guys, this one isn’t pretty, its nasty and dark and all kinds of messed up.  There’s swearwords, reader injury, feelings of depression, and blood.  Oh, canon divergence.





	Mistakes

You didn’t understand how it had come to this. How your life had come to this. You were only fourteen years old and you had seen and dealt with things most adults would never have to deal with. Hell, you had killed your first werewolf at age twelve, although it had been a total accident. 

How the hell were you supposed to know the man who’d knocked on your hotel door that night was actually a werewolf? And, really, who the hell leaves a loaded gun just laying around when there were kids around? When you had knocked the gun from its place upon the table, it had gone off and hit the ‘man’ right in the heart. Good thing it had been loaded with silver bullets.

Of course, your dad hadn’t made that mistake again. Both he and Uncle Sam had freaked when they’d gotten your call that night. But, honestly, who wouldn’t freak out hearing their 12 year old daughter had just shot some stranger in the chest? They’d disposed of the body, after realising it was the wolf they’d been after, and had quickly left town. 

Since then no loaded guns had been accidentally left behind. No, now they were left on purpose. Dean hadn’t wanted to teach his only daughter how to hunt, not when he’d lost your mother to a hunt gone wrong. But when Sam had pointed out how close you had come to being werewolf chow, well… Dean had conceded. 

Naturally you still weren’t allowed to actually, physically hunt with your Dad and Uncle, but now you could defend yourself if the need ever arose. And they didn’t just teach you how to defend yourself, they taught you how to recognise a various number of creatures. Eventually you grew to enjoy those lessons more than your actual school lessons.

“He’ll be ok, Y/N,” muttered Uncle Sam from across the table when you sighed heavily. You glanced up from your book long enough to flash him a brief, unconvincing smile, before ducking your head once more. It wasn’t good enough for Sam, however, and a moment later he reached across and put his hand over your book. “I mean it. We’ll get him back. We always do.”

He was right, and you knew it full well. You knew he was trying to reassure himself more than anything, so you offered him a proper smile and hid your own misgivings. You knew in your heart your dad would pull through this. Well, you hoped…

Dean had been to hell and back, literally. He’d been through more than his fair share of crap, both before and after your mom had died. You knew he was strong, that he could handle literally anything thrown his way, but this was different…

He’d never been a demon before.

It was a given that you didn’t go down to the dungeon anymore. You’d been down, once, right after Sam had brought him back to the bunker. You’d wanted to see for yourself, not believing your dad, the hero in your life, had actually gone demon. Unfortunately, Sam had caught you as you tried to open the door. Ever since then if he wasn’t down with your dad, he was by your side making sure you weren’t.

You didn’t fully understand it, really. Yes, you understood your dad was a demon. What you didn’t get was why you had to stay away. He was bound, according to your Uncle. In a devil’s trap that would hold him until he wasn’t demon anymore. He couldn’t hurt you, and even if he could you were certain he wouldn’t. 

You were his little girl. His Princess. He would never, ever hurt you.

And you’d tried telling Uncle Sam that. But he wouldn’t listen, continued to insist it was for your best interests. So you stayed away like a good girl.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to go and see him. Hell, you were dying inside to see your dad again. The last time you’d seen him was when Sam had carried him into his bedroom what felt like years ago, broken and bloody. Being told he was dead, seeing his body… it had damn near killed you. Finding out his body had vanished had sent you into a tailspin worse than when your mom had died.

Strangely enough, it was finding out he had gone demon that had brought you back from the edge of insanity. At first it had been about bringing his body home; you’d both thought he’d been possessed, after all. When Sam had told you the truth less than two days ago, you had felt hope spark inside you for the first time since he’d accepted the Mark of Cain all those months ago. Hope that you could get your father back. Your real dad, just as you remembered him before the MoC.

“You should get some sleep, Y/N,” mumbled your Uncle a few moments later, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his eyes. He flashed you a tired smile before checking his watch. “I’ll go give your Dad his next shot then come say goodnight, ok?”

“Ok,” you agreed half-heartedly, and only for his sake. You knew you wouldn’t sleep; you hadn’t slept a wink since you’d been told you could get your dad back. You knew you’d crash eventually, but for now it just wasn’t happening. Still, you waited as Sam came around the table to you, pulling you into his arms and lightly kissing your forehead like your dad used to do when you were upset or scared.

“Get some sleep, Princess,” he whispered, unintentionally bringing tears to your eyes as you squeezed his waist tighter for a moment. “I promise, by the time you wake up he’ll be back to normal.”

Sam left you to head back to your room as he went back down to the dungeon. You sighed heavily, but forced your feet to carry you to your room and not to follow your Uncle. You left your door open a crack before flopping face first down on your bed, fighting to keep your tears at bay. 

As you rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling with one arm tucked up behind your head, your mind drifted back to the last time you’d spoken to your father…

**

“Princess? You in here?” called your Dad softly, interrupting your concentration. You’d been focusing too hard on your homework, determined to finish this assignment on time for once. However as soon as you heard your fathers voice you turned, a bright smile crossing your lips.

That smile faded when you saw the look on his face.

“Dad? Is it the Mark?” you asked cautiously, standing from your place on the floor by your bed. Dean smiled sadly at your words, ducking his head and fiddling with his hands like he did when he was nervous. “Daddy? You’re… you’re scaring me…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he breathed, quickly closing the distance between the two of you and pulling you into his arms for a tight hug. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, letting his scent of leather and musk, with a faint hint of gunpowder, wash over you. It was a comforting smell; the scent of home. 

“You and Uncle Sam are going after Metatron, aren’t you?” you asked eventually, reluctantly pulling away to glance up at your father’s face. He looked so tired, stretched thin with his worry over what the mark was doing to him. Of course, he would never admit that to you, of all people. You saw his eyes darken at your words, and you knew you were right.

“We won’t be gone long,” he whispered, pulling you in close again and resting his head on yours. When he pulled away he pressed a light kiss to your forehead and offered you a weak smile. “I promise, Princess. We’ll be back in no time, and then I’ll help you finish off your assignment, deal?”

You smiled again, heart aching at his need to protect you under any circumstance. It made sense, you were his daughter, but sometimes you wished he would open up more. You know he used to open up with your mom, but ever since she died…

“Deal. I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too, Princess.”

**

You were pulled from your daydreaming when the lights of the bunker suddenly shut off, shifting to a deep red you’d only seen once before. You glanced over at your phone, which you’d left on silent, and noticed the screen flashing at you. Panic causing your heart to race, you dived for your phone and quickly wiggled under the bed. 

**He’s loose. Stay put dont go looking for him. – Uncle Sammy**

For a brief moment, you were sure your heart had literally stopped beating as you read the text from your Uncle. How? How could he be loose in the bunker? How had he broken free of the devils trap? You quickly remembered Sam had been ‘curing’ him. The lack of demon blood in his veins had probably made it easy for him to walk out of the trap.

But that also meant he was human again, or close to it, at least. And if he was human…

Stashing your phone in your pocket, you quietly wiggled back out from under your bed. Sam might get mad at you for doing this, but this was your Dad you were talking about here. Besides Sam, he was the only person to be there for you through absolutely everything, and you would be damned if you wouldn’t be there for him, now. You still didn’t believe he would ever hurt you.

“Smart, Sam! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find you!”

A chill ran through you as you continued forward, all while your Dad continued shouting. You quickly realised you were right. By purifying his blood, Sam had weakened the effects of the devils trap. He was still demon, just not enough and at the same time, still too much. 

The lights came back on as you moved, once again freezing you in place. You glanced down either end of the hallway, waiting for someone to find you. Nothing moved, aside from the occasional shout from your Dad. You could barely hear Sam’s replies as you tried to find them. This was a bad idea. You’d heard what your Dad was saying, and you finally realised Sam was right. At the moment, that wasn’t your Dad at all.

You should have stayed in your room.

The things you could hear him saying terrified you to your core. There was no way your Dad, your teddy bear of a father, would ever say those things to Sam. But you could hear it in his voice; he would truly kill your Uncle if he got the chance. 

“Well, well, well,” came that disturbing voice as you made the decision to hide until it was over. You froze, then slowly turned as your heart threatened to burst out of your chest. Your Dad stood before you, looking the same as ever aside from that evil glint in his eyes. You swallowed when you saw the hammer in his hands. 

“D-Dad?” you stuttered, stumbling back into the wall behind you. Dean smiled, taking one step forward as he lifted the hammer to rest on his shoulder.

“And here I was thinking Sammy was smarter than this,” he chuckled, taking another step closer. You tried to back up, only to freeze when he pointed the hammer at you. “I thought for sure he’d send you away. Wouldn’t wanna risk his precious niece getting hurt now.”

“Dad, please,” you tried again, raising your hands in surrender. “Just stop this and let us help you.”

“Didn’t you hear me, Y/N?” he asked tauntingly, flashing you a crooked smile as he winked. Then he leaned in, standing only feet from you, now. “I don’t want your help. I want your blood.”

You ducked as the hammer came for your face, somehow managing to avoid his swing. Pure, unadulterated fear coursed through you as you hit the floor. Dean growled above you as he pulled the hammer from the new hole in the wall. Without hesitation you scrambled to your feet and started running.

Of course, being older, stronger, and having longer legs meant he could easily catch you. However, you knew this bunker like the back of your hand, had spent many a night walking its corridors while Dad and Uncle Sam were out on a hunt. You knew every twist and turn, could walk this place blindfolded and not bump into a single thing.

So you took the next left by grabbing onto the wall and flinging yourself around the corner. The muttered curse and loud thump told you your Dad hadn’t anticipated your move, and had gone crashing into the stand just past the turn. You didn’t stop, or even slow down as you flung yourself around yet another corner. 

Somehow you managed to lose him long enough to duck into a small, dark corner. You knew he hadn’t seen you hide, so you’d hoped he would continue past you without a second glance. Unfortunately, he only took five steps past your hiding place before he stopped.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice nothing like what you remembered. He sounded evil, wrong. This wasn’t your father, and you were very afraid he could actually kill you. The thing was, you weren’t afraid of dying, or even dying by his hand. You were more afraid of what it would do to him when Sam finally cured him. “Come out, come out, Princess.”

You shuddered at the nickname, spoken with malice and not the gentle kindness you were used to. He practically spat out your name, like it was painful just saying it. A few seconds after his call, you heard Sam screaming your name from somewhere else. By how far away he sounded, you knew he wouldn’t save you in time.

You watched carefully as your Dad turned towards Sam’s voice, realising that was why he had started calling to you. He thought Dean would rather go for him than you, and part of you hoped the same thing… except he only shook his head and turned back towards your hiding spot.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he almost cooed, a twisted smile on his face as he started for the closest door. He shut the first one with a sneer, his eyes raking over you as he turned to another. “You’re only making this worse on yourself, Y/N. Daddy just wants to talk…”

“Y/N!!” Sam’s calls were getting closer, but still not close enough. Your Dad inched closer to you, his eyes once again roaming over your dark corner. He looked almost annoyed at Sam’s insistent calling, but made no move to go silence him. 

“Come out you little brat and I won’t make this too hard on you,” he growled, pure hatred and anger lacing every aspect of his tone. You couldn’t help it. You let out a tiny sob, and in the silence of the bunker, he heard it. He turned back to you again with a wicked grin of satisfaction. “Gotcha…”

“Let me go!” you screamed when he grabbed the back of your shirt, hauling you to your feet before him. Sam’s calling grew more panicked, and you were starting to believe he might actually find you in time. But only if he hurried… “Dad, please! Stop!”

“Shut up,” he snarled in your ear, covering your mouth with his hand as he spun you around and pulled your body to his chest. “God, you have no idea how much I hate that. Hearing your little whiney voice all the fucking time. Dad, please, stop!”

“Y/N??!! Answer me, please?!”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your Dad pulled you back into the shadows, just as Sam passed the end of your hall. You tried to call out to him, but Dean cut off your air supply by moving his hand from your mouth to your throat. Your Uncle continued down the other hall, still calling your name as he moved away.

Suddenly your back was hitting the wall as Dean reversed positions, pinning you there by your throat, your feet dangling in the air. You clawed at his hand, desperately trying to get him to release you to no success. 

“Oh I can’t wait to be free of you two,” snarled Dean, forcing more tears from your eyes. “Always holding me back. How the hell am I supposed to have a life with you around? Huh? That was the biggest mistake of my life, hooking up with your whore mother. And how can I forget it when I have to see your stupid face every single day, reminding me of that mistake?”

A part of you knew it wasn’t your Dad saying those words, but they still hurt none-the-less. He still had your Dad’s face, still spoke with his voice, and part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he truly felt that way all along. Had he ever even loved your mom? Had he ever loved you?

“Please,” you croaked, giving up the last of your oxygen to plead with the monster who held you. It’s not him, your mind screamed at you, but it didn’t matter. “Dad…”

“Stop calling me that,” he growled, slamming your back against the wall again. “Don’t you get it you stupid little bitch? I don’t want you! I never wanted you. I only kept you around because I felt guilty. Oh, but not anymore…”

“Y/N!” 

Your Uncles scream rang out as your vision blurred. There was a strange ringing in your ears that somehow promised peace, but at Sam’s call a surge of adrenalin gave you strength. You lifted both of your feet as Dean growled, his grip tightening on your throat, and struck out at his chest.

The contact made him drop you, and you hit the ground with a strangled cry as you desperately sucked air back into your lungs. He stumbled back into the wall in shock, but it faded quickly, replaced with anger once more as his eyes flashed a deadly black.

“You’re pushing your luck, sweetheart,” he hissed, stalking forward as you jumped to your feet. You tried to run, but he was too quick. He grabbed your arm tightly, ripping you back to him harshly. A scream tore from your lips as you felt your arm crack, pain shooting up to your shoulder and down to your fingertips. 

“Y/N?!” Sam called again, sounding only feet away as your father flung you into the wall, head first this time. Your arm was broken for sure, and as you hit the ground you were vaguely aware of something dripping down your forehead. Something hit your back and you cried out again, but had no energy to move.

Your entire body ached as darkness began to creep into your vision. Something warm dripped into your eyes as you lay there wondering when the next blow would come, forcing you to close them. There was a shuffling to your right, followed by more shouting that seemed dull to your ears as the world slipped away. 

You heard your Dad’s voice, coming from far, far away as it became harder and harder to breathe. You could hear your Uncle, too, and the Angel, Castiel. But it was your Dad’s voice you tried to hold onto. His screams of pain made you want to help him, but you couldn’t even open your eyes.

As the pain began to fade, you realised this was the end. You weren’t going to make it. So you mustered up all your remaining strength and forced three words from your lips, hoping he heard and remembered them when he was cured, before everything faded completely.

“I forgive you…”

**

_“I forgive you…”_

He sighed as he stared down at his hands, his heart clenching with pain. He couldn’t even bring himself to look up as her words rang through his mind. His hands clenched into fists as he watched them, then unclenched, then clenched again. Dean couldn’t stop the sob that escaped him a moment later, no matter how hard he tried.

It had been over twenty-four hours since he’d been cured. Over twenty-four hours since his humanity had come back and he’d realised just what he’d done. Twenty-four hours, and she still hadn’t woken up. 

Her last words still rang in his ears, only making him feel even worse. Y/N was so much like her mother; she had said the exact same thing as she had lain dying in his arms all those years ago. God… she would absolutely hate him for what he’d done. If she was watching him from heaven…

“I’m sorry…”

Dean began to sob then. He hung his head, running his hand over his face to try and stop the flow of tears, but it was no use. Not only had he tried to kill his own brother, he had almost succeeded in killing his only daughter. If Cas and Hannah hadn’t shown up when they had…

“God, I’m so sorry, Princess…”

A soft, pained groan left her then, and Dean’s head snapped up to look at her for the first time since he’d sat down. She looked so young and small on that bed, was so pale that, if it weren’t for Cas’s assurance she would wake, he would have sworn she was already dead. Yet, as he watched, her hands balled into fists and she began to shake her head from side to side.

When he saw her try to sit, Dean reached out instinctively and pressed his hand to her chest.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, afraid his voice would betray him if he spoke. He pulled his hand away and stepped back when she flinched, her eyes fluttering open and landing on him. And, God… the look of fear on her face completely shattered his heart. Especially when she sat quickly and pushed herself into the corner of the bed, away from him.

He sighed sadly, dropping his head to hide the tears forming up. 

“I’m so sorry, Princess,” he whispered again, refusing to look at her as he turned. Without another word he moved for her door, leaving her room as quick as he could. He passed Sam as he rushed through the bunker for the garage, uncontrollable tears streaming down his face.

With everything he’d said to her, everything he’d done… of course she was afraid of him. She probably hated him…

And she had every right to.

“Dean, hey, WAIT!” called Sam, but he didn’t follow him. Dean was grateful for that fact, and he knew Sam would go check on Y/N. She wouldn’t be afraid of him…

God, this was so messed up. He’d foolishly believed Castiel when he’d told him Y/N wouldn’t blame him for his actions. Of course she would. Hell, if he couldn’t forgive himself, why should she? 

All he could see when he closed his eyes was his hands wrapped around her throat. He could still hear the sickening crack as her head had hit the wall. Could still feel her bones crack beneath the hammer before Sam had pulled him away…

How could he do that to his only daughter? He loved Y/N more than anything left in this world, and he had almost killed her. Even if she did forgive him, he would live with those memories for the rest of his life. Even if she forgave him, things would never be the same between them again. She would never trust him again, not completely.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he sat on the garage floor, Impala keys in hand, debating whether or not Y/N and Sam were better off without him. After recent events… Dean was convinced they would be. However, Sam found him before he’d made up his mind.

“Not right now, dude,” he mumbled, thinking he was going to tell him to talk to Y/N again. He was wrong…

“Y/N’s missing!”

**

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked, shivering from the blast of icy wind that bit into your back. The bag on your back seemed heavier than it was, the strap cutting into your shoulder before you shifted it to the other one. 

You glanced down at your watch as another car passed you, completely ignoring your out-stretched thumb. It had only been a couple of hours since you left. You figured you had at least three to four more before Sam realised you were missing. You’d waited until he’d said goodnight before trying to sneak out.

You paused then, turning back the way you’d come and eyeing the road home. That thought almost made you laugh. You still called it home in your mind, but your Dad had made it perfectly clear that never was your home. Not really.

With tears filling your eyes for the thousandth time in the last few hours, you turned around and continued on your path. There was a town just a few miles down the road that you would reach before sunrise. You’d find a nice park bench to sleep on before finding a way out of Kansas.

You’d only gone another half-mile when you heard another car gunning its engine behind you. You slowed your steps, turning side on as the headlights appeared over the ridge. With a heavy sigh you dropped your hand, which had been reaching out to signal the car. Your shoulders slumped forward as you picked up your speed again, pretending to ignore it.

Then sighed as the Impala pulled to a hasty stop just ahead of you. You expected your Uncle to jump out, figuring your Dad wouldn’t care enough to come find you. His words had been running through your mind on a loop since you’d woken, tearing at whatever was left of your broken heart.

_‘…don’t you get it you stupid little bitch… I don’t want you… I never wanted you… biggest mistake of my life…’_

The driver’s door opened as you stopped walking, rolling your eyes as your Uncle hopped out and desperately trying to rein in your tears. You had to be strong here, or he would never let you go. You had to show him you were capable of surviving on your own, that this wasn’t just some teenage temper tantrum.

This was you giving your Dad exactly what he wanted.

“Y/N…”

Your heart stopped at the voice, realising too late it wasn’t Uncle Sam coming to get you. He stopped a few feet in front of you as you backed up, remembering the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat. You couldn’t look at him, afraid of seeing that same hatred from before in his eyes.

“Where are you going?” He didn’t sound angry, like you half expected him to. Hell, he didn’t even sound annoyed that you’d tried to run away. If anything, he sounded… broken.

He sounded like he had after your mom had died.

You risked a glance up, surprised to find he wasn’t even watching you. He stared at his hands, fiddling with them like he always did when feeling anxious. It was a habit you, yourself, had picked up. He glanced up quickly when you swallowed, the only other sound the Impala’s running engine. That was when you saw the tears streaming down his cheeks, and you couldn’t hold yours back anymore.

“Away,” you whispered, afraid speaking too loud would bring the demon back. Sam had told you he’d been cured, but still… a part of you couldn’t help but believe he’d meant every single thing he’d said. That he’d just been too afraid to admit how much he hated you before now. “You don’t want me…”

“Princess…” whimpered your Dad, sounding beyond wrecked as he reached for you. He dropped his hands when you flinched violently and stepped back again. “Y/N… god, sweetheart, I am so sorry. I know I hurt you, in more ways than one, and I know you probably never wanna see me again after what I said… but sweetheart, please don’t leave. Not like this.”

“I’m just a mistake, remember?” you spat, feeling your anger rise as pain filled your heart. You saw your words hurt him, but he’d hurt you more. Your voice rose with each word, until you were literally screaming at him. “You don’t want me, you said so yourself! I’m just a mistake, you should have just left me on the side of the road to die!”

He hadn’t said that last part, but right then it was how you felt. You hadn’t realised you’d stepped closer to him until he reached out, his arms circling you and crushing you to his chest as you sobbed and screamed hysterically.

“Y/N, please, baby, stop!” he cried, sinking to the ground and refusing to let you go. You continued to fight him, continued to punch and kick him, but you were no longer trying to escape. “Sweetheart, please, stop. Don’t do this, don’t leave. It’s not safe out here, and I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

“You don’t mean that,” you sobbed, finally giving up on fighting him. He was your Dad, you didn’t want to fight him. You just wanted everything to go back to how it was. Now you clung to him tightly, your hands bunched in his jacket as he rubbed your back softly, still holding you close to his chest. 

“I do,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper as his tears soaked through your hair to your scalp. “Oh baby, I do, I mean every word. I can understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore, but I’m begging you, sweetheart, please, stay with Sam at least. He’ll protect you, he’ll keep you safe.”

“And what about you?” you asked, cringing at how pathetic your voice sounded in that moment. You pulled away and lifted your head to look up at him, hating the pain still etched into his features. You were beginning to believe him, beginning to see it really was just the demon talking and not how he really felt.

“I’ll go,” he said stoically, his face straightening out to his mask of indifference as you watched him. At his words, your hope faded again. He didn’t want you. He never had. You pushed him away then, coming to your feet and fighting your renewed tears. He stood with you. “I’ll leave and I’ll never bother you again, I swear. You’ll be safe, Y/N, but only if you stick with Sam.”

“Why should I listen to you?” you snapped, losing your fight with your tears as you backed up. “You don’t even care so stop pretending! No one’s here, no one’s going to judge you so just tell the truth!”

“I am!” he yelled back, throwing his hands wide in his anger. The two of you were too much alike, your mother had said so all the time. It was clear Dean regretting yelling as he softened his tone when he spoke again. “Y/N please, stop this! I know I fucked up, ok? I’m trying to fix it!”

You opened your mouth to keep arguing, but this time he beat you to it. Before you could utter a word he was yelling again.

“Just come home!” he cried, sounding beyond desperate as he took a step closer to you. Tears were streaming down his cheeks once again. “Y/N, please don’t do this. Please don’t walk away. You’re my baby girl, you’ll always be my baby girl, and I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. Please, sweetheart, I can’t lose you, too. You and Sam… you’re all I have left…”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” you whispered, all fight leaving your body as your bottom lip trembled. You gave up trying to hold your tears back, letting them stream down your face as you stared up at your father. “I love you, Dad. I always will. But I’m not staying if you don’t want me around.”

“Of course I want you around,” he insisted quickly, once again closing the gap between you. His large hands found your arms, but his touch was light, hesitant, as if afraid you would pull away again. But you didn’t want to pull away. His eyes searched yours as he bent down to your level, a pleading look on his face. “Princess, I didn’t mean anything I said back there. Your mom and I didn’t plan you, but you have always been the best mistake I’ve ever made. If I had to go back and do it all again you can bet your life the only thing I would change is getting you and your mom out of this life.”

His words were working on you, and once again you were crying. Only for a completely different reason now. Letting go of your arm, he reached up slowly to wipe your cheek lightly, a weak smile crossing his lips.

“Do you mean it?” you sobbed, preparing yourself for his ‘no’. You wanted to believe him, to believe everything he’d said and done had been a lie…

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. Without a word you fell onto his chest, your hands fisting in his jacket once again as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. After a moment he sniffed, then pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, baby I am so sorry I put you through this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I forgive you, Daddy,” you whispered like a child, feeling very much like one in that moment. You pressed yourself in closer to his embrace, inhaling his unique scent of leather, gunpowder, and whiskey. Once again he kissed the top of your head, his arms squeezing a little tighter as you let out another small sob. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Princess,” sobbed your Dad, a soft sigh of relief escaping him as he rested his chin on your head. “God… I swear to you, that will never happen again. I won’t let it, I promise.”

“I believe you,” you replied, your voice thick with tears as you pulled back to look at him again. He smiled when you took his hand, giving yours a little squeeze of assurance. “Can we go home? Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replied gently, reaching up to take your bag off you. Then he smiled, and for the first time since this nightmare had begun, it actually reached his eyes. “Come on, Princess. Let’s go home.”


End file.
